For a while he stood there, trying to fathom the reason. Then he gave it up and started for the gate. The others had long since left the park, and he made his way back to the hotel alone, took his shower, and came down to the dining-room ten minutes late. For all the comfort he got out of his companions Lefty might as well have been alone at the table. From the beginning of the meal to its long-drawn-out finish not a single word was addressed directly to him. The others talked over him, around him, at him, but never to him. Among themselves, but in tones which plainly showed that their remarks were aimed at Lefty, they discussed that miserable first inning in detail, pointing out how different the result would have been with any one but a quitter in the box. They made many other scornful comments, and the southpaw was hard pressed to maintain a stolid, impassive demeanor. Not for the world would he have them guess how much they were hurting him. By supper time the determined ostracism of his cub companions had so worked on Lefty that his nerves were raw. He even caught Stillman regarding him queerly, and that was the last straw. He felt, somehow, that if he did not confide in some one he would blow up; so, after supper, he cornered his classmate in the lobby, and poured the whole story into his astonished ears. When Locke had finished, Stillman gave a long whistle of incredulous astonishment. “That’s the rottenest thing I ever heard of!” he exclaimed indignantly. “No wonder you went to smash that way. But look here, old fellow, are you certain about the drug part of it? Isn’t it possible that you had some sort of an attack of indigestion or something?” Locke shook his head. “No indigestion would ever give a fellow feelings like that. Besides, I was fit as a fiddle before I went into that card game. Something was put into that beer, Jack; take my word for it.” “But who would do such a thing? You say Elgin you’re sure wasn’t even in the room. Did you notice anything queer about any other man’s behavior?” For an instant Lefty hesitated, the thought of Fargo’s odd remark, with its odder inflection, in his mind. The next instant he gave a start as the big backstop strolled lazily up and paused beside his chair. “Sort of off your feed to-day, ain’t you, kid?” Fargo inquired, with a grin. “I certainly am,” Lefty answered. He hesitated a second, and then went on with deliberate purpose: “I reckon midnight poker games with all the fixings don’t agree with me.” “Cut out the fixings and the poker won’t hurt a baby,” the catcher returned swiftly. “It’s all right for the regular bunch to make fools of themselves swilling hard stuff if they want to, but you kids can’t afford to do that sort of thing. I was watching you last night and wondering if you was going to fall for that nonsense.” A flash of sudden comprehension leaped into Locke’s mind and brought the color swiftly to his face. “So that was why you said I’d had enough!” he exclaimed.